This Is What Matters
by theidiotgirl
Summary: Jacob and Bella, years down the line, spending Christmas with their family. Written for the Jacob/Bella Big Bang over at livejournal.


**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Author's Note:** Written way back when for the Jacob/Bella Big Bang over at livejournal.

* * *

**December 23**

Bella yawns, brushes her hair away from her face as she dismounts from the Greyhound she rode cross-country. Her back aches from hours of sitting, and she craves a good massage - fingers pressing to work out the deep kinks running up and down her spine. As she shuffles out of the bus terminal, her rolling luggage trailing behind her, the cold air of Port Angeles rushes to meet her. She pauses a moment outside the large building to scan the parking lot.

There's no sign of Jacob, and she frowns at all the parked cars. As she digs through her coat pockets for her cell phone, a boisterous couple exits behind her. She watches in envy as they clamber into a beat-up Camry. Just as the car backs out of its parking spot there's a high chirp from her left pocket. She scoops her phone out, scowls at the flashing screen—JACOB calling—before pressing the talk button.

"You do realize your late, right?"

"Sorry. I'm almost there."

"Define almost."

"I thought we threw that sweatshirt out after The Great Spaghetti Incident last summer."

Bella's head swivels around. There's no sign of Jacob or the Rabbit in her sight. "I may have rescued it. Where are you?"

Jacob snorts. "You just wait. I'm going to burn that thing one day."

"Hey! I happen to love this hoodie."

"Lord knows why," Jacob answers. She can clearly picture him shaking his head in amusement. "Look to your left."

Bella turns, catches sight of her old truck entering the parking lot. She watches, butterflies nervously flittering about in her stomach, as it eases to a stop. Jacob grins at her from behind the wheel, and a bubbling happiness swells within her chest.

"I didn't even hear it!"

"Yeah, I've been tinkering with it for a while. Consider it an early Christmas gift."

"My only gift?"

The driver's door swings open; Jacob steps out, phone still held near his ear. "We'll see."

Bella rolls her eyes, terminates her call. "Hi."

She gives a wide smile as Jacob moves to stand before her. "Hey," he says with a grin of his own.

Bella wraps her arms around him, presses her cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt. "God, I've missed you."

Jacob's hands move to cup her face, and she takes a step back to look up at him. His eyes are bright and warm. Bella's whole being pricks with anticipation as his shining face leans down toward hers. She presses up on her toes to meet him halfway, sighs into the kiss as her eyes flutter shut.

When they part, Jacob presses his forehead against hers. Bella has to stifle the giggle that threatens to rise inside her as she imagine how the pair of them must look—her straining to stay on tip toes, Jacob bent at a crooked angle. Her eyes catch his, fuzzy and out of focus from being so close, and they smile goofily at one another.

A cold wind whips past them, and they both shiver, clutch more tightly at one another. Bella falls back on the heels of her feet, sways forward to grasp Jacob fully.

"Maybe we should take this little reunion inside the truck," Jacob suggests as another cool wind wraps it's slinky arms around them.

Bella nods, and they quickly shove her luggage into the cab, climb in and hunch over the warm rush of air coming from slated vents on the dashboard. Their teeth chatter from the cold and barely suppressed laughter as their hands fight for space over the heater vents.

"I bet you wish you still ran a toasty 108, huh?"

Jacob shakes his head, pulls Bella closer to him across the bench seat. "Oh, I can think of a few ways to raise our body temperature," he says, eyebrows raised suggestively.

Bella rolls her eyes, shoves his arm off her shoulder. "Save it Romeo."

Jacob shrugs, starts the truck on its journey to Forks. Bella makes hasty work of putting on her seatbelt, curls into Jacob's side. Tiny fingers wrap around his jacket clad forearm.

"I really did miss you," Bella murmurs, placing a light kiss on his shoulder. Jacob swears he can feel it through the layers of flannel and thick winter coat, a perfect Bella-shaped impression.

"I missed you too, Honey."

The ride home is quiet, Bella and Jacob content just to be in each other's presence. The warmth swirling through the interior of the truck makes Bella drowsy. She nods sleepily as she watches trees pass. As they wind their way over miles and miles of highway, Bella lets her mind wander.

The holidays remind her of sex with Jacob, the first time. She remembers showing up in his garage years ago, taking in his frame hunched over the guts of the Rabbit, a swear leaving his lips as he tinkered with something metal and nameless to her. The details after that become fuzzy. She recalls saying his name, or her mouth forming the letters at least.

And then there'd been sex, no build-up, no talk about their time spent far from one another. It just happened, one of them leaning forward, the other following. Bella felt the belt buckle in the backseat of Jacob's car digging into her lower back, his hand trailing down her thigh to hook her knee and bring her impossibly close. She sobbed in between breathy shudders, cried only harder upon her release.

Bella was consumed with guilt and regret, of feeling more sad and alone than she had during those long months without Jacob or Edward. Afterwards she and Jacob were not able to look each other in the eye. He sat up, naked, and watched from beneath a tangle of dark lashes as Bella silently gathered up her clothing.

She took her time tugging everything on, noted vaguely the various grease stains her jeans and t-shirt had acquired from landing on the dirty floor. Once she was properly clothed she kept her back to him, kept pushing her hair back behind her ears and hoping someone would stumble along to disrupt their eventual confrontation.

She waited until her heart had slowed its mad beating, until her tears had stopped and her cheeks had dried. Bracing herself for the inevitable, she pressed her palms flat against her stomach and pivoted to face Jacob.

He looked ridiculous, sitting there naked in the Rabbit—his feet firmly planted on the floor, dick out for anyone to see, pink scratches running from his shoulders down to his chest. But that wasn't what Bella noticed first. It was his hands, those same hands that had touched her there minutes before, clutching almost desperately to his knees. Something about the pose, something foreign and heart wrenching, stopped whatever excuse Bella had been preparing from crawling up her throat.

"Oh, Jake," she sighed, then turned and left. Because if they didn't talk, then nothing was wrong. Right? At least, that's what she told herself as she exited the homemade garage. Jacob didn't follow her, and a tiny part of her grieved the fact. The ride back to Charlie's had left her drained, and she passed him without greeting when she entered the house, walked straight to her old room and fell into a fitful sleep.

She didn't see or speak to Jacob for three whole days, during which she was a moody and emotional mess. Then, after Charlie left for work, the doorbell rang. It was Jacob, standing on her doorstep both nervous and angry. And they fought; Bella's voice was high-pitched and strained, Jacob's deep and full of venom. They fought until their throats burned and their chests heaved erratically, until they were near exhaustion and out of tears, until Bella ran out of couch pillows to throw at Jacob when illustrating a point, until Jacob used up all of his angry sneers, until their souls were tiny silver shreds falling like Christmas tinsel around them.

After that, only after that, were they able to collapse in upon each other like dying stars, all the hurt and lies and resentment falling away, sucked into a black hole and never to be seen again. They'd been able to talk, really talk. About choices and love, about emotions without restrictions. Bella told him about her and Edward falling out of love, slowly. How she'd found friends and life—glorious life with hangovers and midterm stress and late night phone calls where one person cried and the other soothed—and wanted to keep hold of them for as long as she could.

And Jacob told her about running. About giving himself over to the wolf, and how he felt alone and frightened and terribly, terribly unsure. He talked about his mother, the great loss of losing her at such a young age. He told her about duty and ties to the pack and the reservation that were both a blessing and a curse.

And they confessed, at the exact same time, to loving one another. Although, if later asked, both were quick to say that he or she was the first to utter those three words. That the other merely followed their example.

* * *

Jacob helps Bella unpack, suitcase open on her bed. He hands her a long sleeve top.

"What happened to that writing thing you were gonna go to?"

"Canceled." Bella's voice is muffled, mouth closed over the head of a hanger as she slips the green shirt on it. The hanger leaves her lips with a _pop_, and she shoves it between an ugly brown parka and her white eyelet top in her closet. "They sent an e-mail, but I didn't read it all the way through. Something to do with food poisoning. I think."

"But you're still doing the summer program, right? The one in Chicago?"

"Yeah." Bella nods, pulls down a bare hanger. "Me and Simran. We're gonna stay with her cousin. Nellie something-or-other. Apparently the family's black sheep."

"Huh. How so?"

Bella grins. "Well, you didn't hear this from me. _But_. She dropped out of law school to marry some guy she met in Spain. A painter. Not only that, but she showed up drunk to her sister's wedding."

"I like her."

"Me too. She came down to visit a few months ago and we hit it off."

"Good. Can you imagine spending two weeks with someone you don't like?"

"I did," Bella sighs.

Jacob chuckles. "Right, right. I forgot. Stacey Stink Breath from orientation."

"Stacey Stink Breath," Bella repeats. "God. That was the worst. And she always wanted to lean in and talk to you."

Jacob hands her another top, blue with a small gold eagle on the breast pocket. An unopened pregnancy test tumbles out of its folds, and his eyes widen.

"Damn," Bella mutters, the good mood from moments ago vacating the room. "I meant…I was going…Oh, hell."

A flush works its way across her chest and up her neck as Bella watches Jacob. He hasn't taken his gaze off the pink box, and she's afraid his brain may have short-circuited. And, gosh darn it, why didn't she mention this to him earlier—when she was standing with her roommates in a drugstore, panicked out of her mind as she swept seven different tests into her basket along with a bottle of whiskey.

Jacob slowly turns to look at her, eyes cautious. "Are we…Are you…?"

"No!" Bella rushes to answer, hands thrust out in front of her—palms facing Jacob—and shaking side to side. "No! It was just—Do you remember how you flew out for Halloween since I was having Thanksgiving with Renee and we did too many Jell-o shots and Nadine sang that Elton John song? Then we went back to my apartment and on the way there we were harassed by that man with the beard? Do you remember that?"

Jacob nods, and Bella feels some of the panic that had infused her quick words leak from her body. She takes a calming breath, walks toward her bed and sits beside Jacob. She carefully takes his hand in hers, afraid he may pull it back at any moment. It is warm and dry against hers, achingly _human_.

"I was…I was late. So. Nadine and Simran took me took get some tests, and it was. I wasn't. So. Yeah."

She doesn't tell him how she and her roommates drank the whiskey first, how the tests sat on her bedside table for nearly a week before she worked up the courage to use them. Only she never got the chance. Between classes she'd dashed off to use the bathroom, and the red smear on her panties had prompted a torrent of tears. She'd been strangely elated and disappointed all at once. Nadine and Simran had wrapped her in comforting hugs as she sobbed "But I do want kids. Only not right now. And I kind of wish I was pregnant, just a little, and, and..."

Bella pulls herself away from memories as Jacob lets out a heavy sigh. Quietly, he asks "Is it crazy that I'm a little disappointed we're not having a kid?"

Bella gives a strangled laugh, rubs at her watery eyes with the base of her palms. She shakes her head. "No. No, it's not crazy at all. I was too. A little."

"Okay. So, no kids?"

"No kids. At…at least not right now."

Jacob turns toward her, eyes wide. There's a tentative hopefulness to his tone as he says "But eventually, yes?"

Bella nods. "Yeah. With you, of course. I refuse to raise them on my own."

Jacob nods, mouth quirking up at the corners. "Good."

"Good," Bella mimics, biting her lip as she grins up at Jacob.

"And you'll tell me next time, right? I don't want you freaked out and scared over this without me."

"Okay. I will. I promise."

Jacob sighs, tugs Bella into a hug. "You think if we concentrate hard enough your stuff will put itself away?"

Bella clings tightly to him, eyes shut tight. "Won't work. I tried it."

"Alright, let's finish unpacking then."

* * *

"Dad," Bella says around a grin later that night. "The tree looks great."

Charlie, seated in his recliner, blushes at the compliment. The occupants of the living room—Jacob, Bella, and Charlie—turn simultaneously to looks at the tree. It has skinny, limp branches weighted down with colored lights and fuchsia and silver colored tinsel. The ornaments are old and homemade; there are three near the bottom covered in painted macaroni glued to cardboard, two were made by Bella, the other by Jacob.

"It really does look good," Jacob says, head tilted to the side as he takes in the gold star on top. It is leaning precariously to the side, and Jacob's sure if anyone breathes too heavily it will tumble right off.

"Alright," Charlie says, his tone ringing with embarrassment. "Enough about the tree."

He snatches the remote up from the arm of his recliner, flips through the television channels and settles on Charlie Brown. Bella bites her lip to hold in a giggle, instead adjusts her plate of lasagna on her lap. Beside her Jacob grins, nudges her shoulder with his own. On screen, Snoopy dances.

Jacob's whole being shakes with silent laughter as Snoopy slinks off stage. And Bella, feeling the movement all along her side pressed tight to Jacob's, snorts before breaking into a loud giggle.

Charlie leans back in his seat and watches the pair with raised eyebrows as they bend over their dinner plates, their laughter bordering on mad cackling. Both clutch at their stomachs. Bella reaches up to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. Charlie sighs—sure he'll never understand the way their minds work —and turns back towards the television.

On the couch, Jacob and Bella calm some. Still breathless from laughter, Bella rests her head on Jacob's shoulder as she lets out a mutant sigh-chuckle. "Oh, I needed that," she says.

"Me too," Jacob agrees, closing her tiny hand in his. With his free hand he picks up his fork and pushes noodle and meat laden tomato sauce along the edge of his plate.

Bella smiles, snuggles closer to Jacob. Since they'd come down from her bedroom there'd been a slight tension between them—a result of a pregnancy scare that they should have shared, but didn't—and their booming laughter has somehow worked to dissolve it. Not completely, but enough for the two of them to move on from dwelling too hard on it for the time being.

Bella is grateful for the absence of the stress that her confession had caused, despite the talk she and Jacob had shared. And isn't this always the case, she muses, how she and Jacob are able to move past everything so long as they can laugh about it later? She remembers jokes on the shore of First Beach, side nudges and innuendos days after they first had sex.

And he really is her best friend. He knows her as well as she knows herself, sometimes better. And she can tell him anything. She can tell him things—long after the fact, and the feelings and thoughts she spills are no longer a burden or anywhere near important—and he will listen with rapt attention, share some of himself with her. Bella decides that later, maybe days or weeks or years in the future, she will tell Jacob about the bottle of whiskey she bought along with her pregnancy tests. She will tell him about it all, every tiny and insignificant detail of that night.

Bella tightens her fingers around Jacob's, feels him respond in kind, eyes still glued to the TV screen.

**December 24**

Bella hunches over the steering wheel of her massive truck and shivers. It's early morning; the sky is sleet gray with no hint of sunshine, and absolutely freezing. This morning it had taken her what seemed like forever to heat up her truck and make the drive down to La Push. (The Rabbit, she'd learned the other day, is out of commission for the time being. She doesn't ask for specifics, but she knows that Quil and a blindfold are somehow responsible for Jacob's lack of motor transportation.)

She stifles a yawn when the front door of a tiny brown house swings open. Jacob steps out, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and turns his back to her momentarily as he locks the door. When he reaches her truck and climbs in, a cold breeze slinks in with him.

"Jesus," Bella mutters, pulling Charlie's sheepskin coat tighter around her frame. She turns to Jacob, grins. "Morning."

He leans over, kisses her. "Hey. You think you can stop over at Crowley's house before you take me to work?"

"Sure. What for?"

Jacob holds up his bag, gives it a little jiggle. "Changing a few sparkplugs."

Bella hums low in the back of her throat. Jacob riffles through his bag, hands Bella something white-gray and crumpled. She raises a brow as she takes it from him. Flattening it out over her thigh, she sees that it's an old pizza receipt—one large pepperoni and a medium cheese, a side of cheesy garlic bread. Jacob reaches across the truck, flips the tiny slip of paper over, fingers lingering a moment past decent on her leg.

Bella blinks. "Oh," she says, staring down at Jacob's uneven scrawl. "Okay, to Tyler's!"

"Huzzah! To Tyler's!"

She starts the truck en route for Tyler's apartment. It's a quiet drive. Jacob slinks down in his seat, head resting against the window. The only sounds are the engine hard at work, the cool winds blowing past, and the hiss of the heater vents. When they pull up to the small complex the sky has gotten darker instead of lighter with the progression of time.

Bella parks under a rusting awning, attempts to rouse Jacob by shaking his shoulder. "Hey," she coos. "C'mon, wake up sleepyhead." He stirs a little, but remains asleep. "_Jay-cob_" Bella sing-songs, tapping his forehead.

Jacob bats her hand away with a noise made low in his throat. He sits up slowly, twists and contorts so that his spine releases a _pop-pop-pop_. "It shouldn't take long," he says.

"Alright. I'll be…here. I guess."

Jacob smiles, exits the car. Bella watches as he jogs upstairs and raps in quick succession on a blue door with a large black 5 on it. It opens moments later. A funny fluttering starts in Bella's stomach as she watches Jacob and Tyler talk, and she can't help the ridiculous grin that stretches her face. Sometimes she still finds it amazing that she's ended up here.

She remembers being so in love with Edward that she could see no life outside of one involving him. But things had changed, or she had. They'd moved to New Hampshire after their marriage so that Bella could attend college. Edward had somehow talked her into living another year, and now she wonders if he was able to do so because deep down she didn't really want to give everything up for a boy, didn't want to leave anything behind no matter how much she claimed to love him.

She'd been upset, and had let Edward know at every available opportunity that she did not want to stay human, did not want to go to college, and most certainly did not want to make friends with Simran from her Chemistry class. But Edward had whispered flowery words in her ear, cool breath making her shiver in delight, and she gave in.

It happened slowly, little suggestions dropped here and there. Bella found herself having friends outside of the Cullens. Soon, without Edward's prompting, Bella began meeting new people and making plans for Sunday lunches and Friday night movies. She began to seek people outside of those she lived with, and always seemed distressed when her two lives - the one involving vampires and the one involving humans - had to meet.

Then, one ordinary Thursday night, Bella simply made a choice. She'd been in school for nearly a year, and the following day she had a test she didn't even feel marginally prepared for, and in the midst of all the completely human and boring drama she was swamped down with, Edward suggested they vacation in Rome for the summer. It was a casual remark made while she highlighted her lecture notes, and without even thinking she'd answered "I want a divorce."

There'd been tears after that, Bella trying desperately to take the words back. She wanted to snatch them from the air where they hung heavy as wet laundry on a weak line, and gobble them back down. She cried and pleaded with Edward, but he merely shook his head and looked at her with sad eyes. Days later, an utterly exhausted Bella cornered Edward in the kitchen, told him they needed to talk.

And they did, for hours. They talked about their futures—together and separate. They talked about souls and love, and how Bella would miss the taste of cake if she were turned. They talked about friendship and family, about horrible movies made on shoestring budgets. They talked and talked, and Bella was sad to realize that despite their time together and despite their promises of eternal devotion they didn't really know one another. At least not anymore. They'd both grown and changed, but instead of doing it together they'd done so separately.

It seemed a tragedy to Bella, falling out of love. But, with the taking off of Elizabeth Masen's ring and the signing of divorce papers she felt a great, heavy weight lift from her chest. And goodbyes with the Cullens were a quiet affair, all of them solemnly lined up as Bella moved down the line with hugs and tears. Alice had been the last, clinging to Bella and whispering in her ear "You're going to be fine. Trust me." And she had been, after much time and help from her new friends.

A tap on the window startles Bella, and she turns to look at a smiling Tyler on the other side. He waves, grins. "Hey, Bella. Long time no see."

She climbs out of her truck, greets him with a smile of her own and a hand stuck out for a shake. He eyes the hand briefly before pulling her into a hug. It's awkward, but Bella gives in with a laugh. They pull apart, lean against the rusted red of her truck and watch as Jacob works under the hood of a dark blue Nissan.

"So, how'd you get Jake to fix your car?" Bella asks, wrapping her arms around her middle for some extra warmth.

"Oh! I remembered Mike saying something about how he…built a car? Or something like that. Anyway, I called him up and he said he'd do it, so…" He gestures to where Jacob is screwing something into the engine.

They make idle chitchat. Bella is surprised to find that Mike and Angela are now engaged. She tells Tyler about college, her roommates' crazy antics. He tells her about the office job he just got, family that flew up for Christmas. They've just started discussing HBO programs when the loud slap of a car's hood going down surprises them.

"All done," Jacob tells them unnecessarily.

Tyler pushes away from the truck, hand digging into his pocket to pull out some folded bills. "Thanks again, man."

"No problem," Jacob answers, slipping the money into his own pants pocket. He holds up a plastic bag. "Where's your dumpster?"

Tyler points, and they say quick goodbyes. He tells Bella it was nice seeing her again, and she returns the sentiment before returning to the warmth of her truck. Jacob enters soon after, hands hovering over the heater.

They make one last stop after that at a gas station at the edge of town. Jacob pumps the gas while Bella heads inside the small shop to pay. She buys coffee and donuts, the powdered ones that Jacob loves and she hates—because she always seems to inhale the sugar coating, and breaking into a fit of choke-coughs breeds no love for the donuts.

They park on the side of the road to drink and eat. Bella sprays a cloud of powdered sugar when she inevitably coughs, glares at Jacob when he laughs. For revenge, she punches him on the arm when he drinks coffee. He jumps in surprise, the brown liquid dribbling down his chin. They're all chuckles and giggles after that, the cab hot, and Bella attaches her mouth to Jacob's neck. But before any real kissing can begin she pulls back to the driver's seat, sets them on their way to Port Angeles.

"I don't want you to be late."

"Really? I think you just like teasing me."

Bella bites her lip, shoots Jacob an impish look. "Maybe."

* * *

Bella leans through her open window, asks, "What time do you get off?"

"Two."

Bella nods, grips the door handle tight. "Why'd you sign up for overtime again?"

"Well, I'm kind of a fan of running water. Hey, you sure you'll be okay hanging around here for a few hours?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She shoos him away with a wave of her hand. "Go fix something."

Jacob chuckles, swats at her wiggling fingers. "Alright. I'll see you later then."

He bends down, kisses Bella. They haven't had a proper kiss since Bella arrived the other day, and she sweeps her tongue along the crease of Jacob's lips. He responds by opening his mouth to hers, and just when Bella reaches out to grab his face they are interrupted by a loud wolf whistle. Her eyes pops open, and Jacob reluctantly pulls away from her to glare at a man in a bright red jumpsuit.

"You're late, Black."

Jacob rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there."

Bella bites her lip, pink beginning to bloom on her cheeks. Jacob gives her one last grin before dropping light kisses on her blushing cheeks.

"Bye, Honey," he whispers. Bella watches his back as he goes. She hasn't touched it since Halloween, and a deep longing assaults her. She wants to climb out her truck window, slip her hands under Jacob's shirt.

"Hey!" She calls out, half leaning out her window. Jacob and his coworker turn to look at her. She ignores the heat working its way up her neck and gathers all her courage. "We're totally finishing what we started when you get off!"

The man laughs, claps Jacob on the shoulder. He ducks his head, embarrassed and amused, before waving at Bella. She gives a wide smile and a jaunty salute before easing the truck into the light traffic on the street. She drives around Port Angeles twice before parking in front of a tiny café that hadn't been there when she was still in high school.

It's comfy inside, warm and dimly lit. Around the window Christmas lights are tacked up, and from the ceiling hangs cardboard reindeer in mid leap. The waitress is a plump woman, nametag reading: JoAnne ©, who seats Bella at a window table and leaves to fetch her a cup of coffee.

"What'll in be, Hon?" JoAnne questions as she sets a fat purple mug on the table.

"Waffles." Unbidden, an image of her mother enters her mind, and she adds, "With berries, please."

Bella slathers her food in syrup when it arrives, takes her time to savor the bursting fruit on her tongue. When she's finished she leaves a generous tip and walks to a nearby bookstore. She spends the next few hours curled up on a plush couch tucked away in a corner and reads. It's been ages since she last let herself get lost in a good book. Most of the reading she's been doing for the past few years has been heavy textbooks weighted down with medical jargon. It's nice being able to slip into a world devoid of dorsal views, midsagital cuts, and synaptic clefts. She nearly misses picking Jacob up from work.

When her truck pulls up to the curb, Jacob's waiting with a bearded man she met once before. Elliot, she thinks. Or Ellis. Jacob says goodbye to the man. When he reaches the truck he smiles.

"Want me to drive?"

Bella nods, scoots across the bench seat to allow Jacob to sit in the driver's spot. He starts them on the journey home, and Bella turns sideways in her seat. Her back resting against the door, she stretches her legs out so that her feet rest on Jacob's lap. His hand comes down to pull her flats off when they stop at a red light; he deposits the black shoes on the floor of the cab, wraps her cold toes with warm fingers. She wiggles them in response and he laughs, pinches her big toe as the traffic light turns green

"Tell me about work," Bella says, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

"Well. You'll be disappointed to know I didn't fix anything."

"Darn. What'd you do then? Build something?"

"I didn't work warehouse today." Merging into the furthest right lane, Jacob says, "Me and Elliot took some hot shot lawyer and a few of his clients out fishing."

"Hm. They catch anything?"

"Nope. But they consoled themselves by drinking. One of them had too much, threw up all over the deck."

"Gross."

"Right? I had to rock-paper-scissor Elliot to see who cleaned it up."

"And…?"

"Guess."

"Oh, yuck!" Bella exclaims, pulling her feet off Jacob's lap. "You lost. Didn't you? And now you're rubbing throw up juices all over my toes. Ew."

"Throw up juices?" Jacob mocks, rolling his eyes. He pulls Bella's feet back onto his lap, squeezes an ankle. "And I won. Thanks for your faith in my rock-paper-scissoring abilities. Anyway, what'd you do all day?"

* * *

Jacob's house in tiny. It has one bedroom and a kitchen-living room combo that bleeds into one giant front room. It looks, to Bella, exactly like a male house should look like. The couch is old and a dark brown leather that's cracked on the back. The dining table is small and made out of a heavy wood, with three mismatched chairs—black, drown, and sea foam green. There's even a stuffed beaver resting atop the television, a house warming present from Quil. It's a hideous and ugly thing, with its lips raised in a snarl, but Jacob likes it—or finds it amusing, at least—so Bella doesn't complain. Much.

Still, there are feminine influences throughout the small living space. A knitted throw that Bella bought at an open-air market held by her school is tossed over the arm of the couch. It conveniently covers a hole with tiny tufts of white poking out. She'd picked it up only half interested, but then thought of Jacob's couch and bought it immediately. She'd FedEx-ed it to him soon after. Over the kitchen sink a floral curtain hangs in front of the window, and in the kitchen drawers is a matching silverware set she'd picked out on a Black Friday shopping trip that Nadine and Simran had dragged her to. Also, on Jacob's bed are sheets that Bella picked out. Sheets she is currently snuggled under, head propped up on her hand as she watches Jacob strip.

"You know," he says, not bothering to turn and address her face to face. "You could join me."

Bella shakes her head. Then, realizing Jacob can't see her, says "No thanks. The last time we were in the shower together I ended up with the biggest bruise known to mankind. It hurt for weeks after. And, to make things worse, it was that ugly yellow-green color."

Jacob rolls his eyes, turns to look at her with exasperation. "Will I always be blamed for that?"

"If you'd just gotten those stickers like I - "

"Bells, non-stick bath stickers wouldn't have worked. You jumped me. Remember?"

Bella gives him a piercing glare. "I did not jump you."

He shrugs, kicks his boxers off. "Go ahead, keep lying to yourself. I'll be in the shower. Feel free to hop in whenever."

Bella's fingers bunch the edge of the blue flannel sheets as she watches Jacob walk toward the bathroom. He leaves the door wide open, and her eyes are glued to his back as he pushes the shower curtain aside. She will never tire of watching him, sinew muscles moving over shoulder and arm and back as he reaches out to start the shower spray. It sputters to life, and Jacob—naked and absolutely delicious—disappears behind the shower curtain.

Bella takes a deep and steadying breath to reign in her lust, and collapses onto her back. Everything in her aches to climb into the shower with Jacob, clothes and all. Sighing, she pushes her hair back and sits up.

She scuttles off the bed to gather Jacob's clothes from the floor and dump it in the laundry hamper. Finished tidying up, she makes the short walk to the kitchen. She finds her purse, a gaudy gold contraption with too many pockets (and so obviously a gift from Renee), on the counter. She shifts through its contents, pulls out her cell phone.

She dials home, but Charlie must still be at work because the call goes straight to the answering machine after three shrill rings. After the beep signaling the okay for a message, Bella says "Hey, Dad. I'm just calling to let you know that I'll be spending the night at Jake's. But don't worry, I'll be home extra early okay? Oh, and we're out of milk. Do you think you can pick some up? Because I need it to make the mashed potatoes. Okay, that's it, I guess…I love you."

She drops her phone onto the counter, begins opening cabinets to find something to eat. She takes down a jar of peanut butter, digs a spoon with a clear plastic handle out from a drawer. Settling down on the couch with her bounty, she turns the television on. Most channels are showing Christmas specials. She skips quickly over those, settles on a forensic drama.

Jacob flops down beside her nearly half an hour later, smelling of pine-scented soap. "What's this?" He asks, pulling the spoon from her hand and scooping out a large glob of peanut butter.

"CSI."

Around a mouthful of peanut butter he says "Which one?"

"Miami."

Jacob's features crinkle with distaste. "The acting's horrible on this one."

"Yeah," Bella agrees. "But that's what makes it so fun to watch. Nadine and Simran mock it mercilessly. Next time you fly out you should ask Nadine to do the glasses thing."

"The glasses thing?"

"You know." Bella mimes putting glasses on and off one handed. "That thing Horatio does with his shades. She's creepily good at it. Seriously. Me an' Simran think she's secretly in love with him."

Jacob snorts, plunges the spoon back into the peanut butter container. They rearrange themselves on the couch, Bella's legs now thrown over Jacob's lap as they settle in to watch an old episode of CSI: Miami. Halfway though, a husband suspected of murdering his wife being interrogated on screen, Bella becomes acutely aware of Jacob's hand on her thigh.

It's been resting there for a while, but now his fingers are moving, tracing little patterns onto the sweats she borrowed when they first arrived at his house. Her heart leaps into her throat, strangled and struggling to get out. She lets out a shaky breath. "Jake."

"Yeah?" He turns to her, and his eyes go dark as he takes in her expression.

He leans down to kiss her, mouth warm and pliant against hers. His tongue slips into her mouth, dancing slowly with hers. Bella lets out a low moan when one of Jacob's hands comes up to cradle the back of her skull, hold her in place. She pulls back with a shudder, quickly shoves the open peanut butter jar aside and straddles Jacob's lap.

"God," she hisses as Jacob's hands slip under her shirt, fingers tapping up her spine. "I missed you so fucking much."

Her mouth crashes against his in a fierce kiss. Her whole body is alive and humming with a pulsing energy spurred on and on by Jacob's hands slipping around to her front, sliding over the flesh covering her ribs to cup her breasts through her bra. She shifts against him, and he lets out a guttural groan, nibbles the soft flesh of her neck.

"I hate when you're away," he says, hands leaving her chest and going to work on removing her top. "Christ. How much longer till you graduate?"

Bella wants to say 'I don't know—not long—I can't stand being away from you.' But Jacob's mouth has fallen to the swell of her breast and she's no longer able to form words. All she can manage to get out are strange sounding syllables, dragged out into meaningless nothings.

"Jake," she says, breathless as one of his hands finds its way into her sweatpants, wedges between their bodies to cup her. "Oh, Jake."

Her hands tightly grip his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. His fingers brush the fabric of her underwear aside—those stupid pink ones with MONDAY written on the front in loopy lettering even though it's a Saturday or Sunday or something—and Bella shudders around him.

"Love you," she grinds out from between clenched teeth. "Love you, loveyoulove…"

**December 25**

There's a small portable radio sitting on the table. It's propped up on two boxes of cereal lying on their sides, tuned to Charlie's favorite station. An old David Bowie tune wafts from the speakers, fills the warm kitchen with its sound.

Jacob nods along, croons into Bella's neck: "I'm stepping through the door and I'm floating in a most peculiar way." His hands are resting on her hips, and he sways them gently side to side for a few seconds before dropping a kiss to her temple and moving to lean against the counter, arms crossed against his chest.

"Becca called while you were in the shower. She said she's gonna be late. Her flight got delayed. Oh, and Sue's stuck in traffic. I told her not to wait so long to pick Leah up from school, but whatever."

"That's fine. I'm a bit behind schedule so it all works out. Do you know where Charlie put the chives?"

Jacob tilts his head toward the area beside the stove. "Behind the ham."

"Thanks. Hey, can you do me a favor and mash these?" Bella glances down at the bowl of peeled potatoes in her hands then back up at Jacob, tacks on "Please?"

"Sure, sure. Hand them over."

They continue on in silence, Jacob finishing the mashed potatoes and seasoning them to taste while Bella starts on a thick soup. They flit around the kitchen, moving past and around each other with ease. When Charlie enters sometime later their heads are bent over the ham in concentration as they stick whole cloves into it. He leans against the doorjamb and watches them. Jacob's hand seems to have encroached on Bella's side because she quickly moves to swat it away. The tall boy laughs, throws a few cloves at Bella. They bounce off her and settle on the counter and floor.

"Hey now," Charlie says, making his presence known. "You making a mess of my kitchen, Black?"

Jacob and Bella's heads swivel around, Bella's arm frozen mid-raise.

"Sorry, Chief," Jacob grins. Beside him Bella lets her handful of cloves fall back to the countertop.

"Sorry, Dad."

Charlie gives them both hard looks. He goes to the refrigerator to pull out a beer, tips the can their way as the door swings shuts, says, "Play nice."

"We will," Bella promises as Charlie makes his way back to the living room. Once he's gone Bella releases a body-shaking giggle. "Oh my god. I haven't gotten that scolding look in forever. I mean, I'm serious. I don't even know when I last got it. Or if I ever did, really."

Jacob rolls his eyes, bends to pick the fallen cloves up from the floor. "I got it last month. I tried talking Dad into letting me steal his cable."

Bella raises a brow. "Didn't work?"

Jacob shakes his head. "I thought he was going to get out of his chair and kick my ass. There are a lot of things he'll put up with from me, but I guess stealing isn't one of them."

"Huh."

Jacob opens his mouth, but the doorbell ringing interrupts whatever he was going to say. The pair of them turn in interest to the living room. They hear voices muffled in the hallway. A moment later Seth walks in, grocery bags in hand.

"I brought cookies."

"Cookies?"

"For poker chips," Jacob explains, rising to throw the dirty cloves away. "It was Sue's idea."

"Oh, well, great. Thanks, Seth." Bella points to the dining table. "You can set them there. Just move something out of the way to make space."

"You need any help?" Seth asks as he sets the cookies on top of a group of green bean cans so that they resemble a tiny house on stilts.

"Actually," Bella says, removing her apron and setting it on the counter. "Can you give me a lift to the store? I need to get some pineapple juice for the glaze."

"Sure thing. You coming Jake?"

Jacob shakes his head. "Nah. I'm gonna go ahead and get started on the casserole."

"You sure?" Bella asks.

"Yeah." He drops a kiss on her mouth, hand lightly slapping her behind. "Now go."

Bella jumps in surprise and grins, kisses Jacob one last time. "Watch it mister."

In the doorway of the kitchen Seth flips his key ring around his finger, rolls his eyes. "You two are gross."

"Oh, please. You're just jealous I've got a woman and you don't."

"Okay," Bella interrupts before they can start any more teasing, "We're going now."

They say quick goodbyes to Charlie, make their way to Seth's car. It's a boxy old thing, painted a shocking green that hurts Bella's eyes. She sits with her monstrous purse on her lap and tries not to laugh.

Seth drives exactly how Bella would expect an old lady to drive. He is extremely cautious, hands locked at the ten and two position. His back is rigid, gaze darting from the road to all his mirrors on a constant lookout for any sign of potential danger—a car careening toward them at an impossible speed or a deer running out onto the road. When Seth pulls into the turning lane in front of the grocery store Bella has to stifle a groan. He lets three opportunities to turn slip past.

"You could have gone," Bella points out.

Seth shakes his head. "Are you insane! That was too small of a gap! If I had gone that van would have hit us. It's the holidays. People always drive crazy on the holidays. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not end up in a body bag while my car becomes some piece of abstract art on the side of the road."

Bella rests her forehead on the window with a sigh. "Today's going to seem never-ending isn't it?"

* * *

"Bella!"

She pauses in her conversation with Joe, who is sharing stories with her about his college days.

"I'll be right back," she tells him, standing up and weaving her way through people seated on the ground. She almost steps on a child crawling swiftly past her feet.

"Bells! Phone!"

Bella enters the kitchen. "No need to shout."

"Your mom," Jacob says, holding the phone out for Bella. She takes it with a quick thanks.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Baby! Guess where Phil's taking me for New Years."

"What?"

"I said guess where Phil's taking—Why's there so much noise?"

Bella presses the phone hard against her ear, tries to block out the music and loud laughter and chatter coming from the front room. "Can you hold on a sec? I need to find someplace quiet."

Bella glances around the kitchen. Seth is seated at the table, picking idly at his food as he chats to one of Charlie's coworkers—a young man named Leroy who moved to Forks with his wife three months prior. At the sink, Jacob is washing used glasses and setting them mouth down on a white dishtowel.

The curled phone cord is long, but it won't reach anywhere quiet. Glancing around her surroundings once more, Bella pulls the sliding glass door back and steps out into the frigid night. Cold burrows under her skin. Out on the back lawn Rachel and Leah are huddled close for warmth, faces dimly lit by stars and the glowing tail of Leah's cigarette.

"—being cheated," Rachel is saying. "Like I'm not even getting my full shampoo or condition. You know? So I've stopped buying those two-in-one deals even though they're cheaper and come with, like, twenty percent more."

Leah blows out a white cloud of smoke in response, gives a barely distinguishable nod. As Bella lowers herself onto the tiny back porch a light dusting of snow begins to fall.

"Mom?"

"You guys having a party?"

"Something like that. Yeah."

"Huh. Good for Charlie. And you're having a good time, right?"

"I am."

"Good. Great. Anyway, merry Christmas! I forgot to tell you right away. I told myself before I called, I said 'Renee, as soon as Bella answers the phone you shout merry Christmas.' But then Jake answered."

"I'm sure he appreciated the sentiment, Mom, as I'm ninety-nine percent positive you shouted it anyway."

Renee laughs, one of those deep throaty laughs that has guys turning heads to gawk at her. "Of course I did, now wish me a happy holidays."

"Merry Christmas, Mom. I love you."

"Thanks, Baby. I love you too. Now, c'mon. Guess where Phil's taking me for New Years."

Bella wraps the phone cord around her pinky three times, gives a shrug she knows Renee can't see. "I dunno. Spain?"

"Oh, please," her mother snorts. "He's not that romantic. I'll give you a clue. It's not New York."

"Well, gee, Mom, that really narrows it down."

"Just guess."

"Kentucky?"

"Good God, no. If he ever takes me there again I'll skin him alive. Somewhere flashy. With lots of casinos and a pirate ship."

"Las Vegas?"

"Yes! Barry Manilow's doing a special New Years concert. The man can charm the pants off a priest." Renee lets loose an appreciative growl. "And I've got front row tickets! Ah! It was Phil's Christmas gift to me. Can you believe it? Manilow! Oh, I'm so excited!"

"That's great, Mom. You've always wanted to see him haven't you?"

"Yeah. Him and The Smiths. One out of two ain't bad."

"I heard they were getting back together."

"Oh, please. The day there's a Smiths reunion is they day your Nana rises from the grave. Or the day Morrissey finally eats his testicles. Hey, did you get the gift I sent you?"

Bella unwinds the phone cord from her finger. It leaves an impression on her flesh that is quick to fade. "No. You sent me a gift?"

"Yeah. Damn UPS. You'll call me when you get it, right? To let me know that you absolutely love it?"

"Of course I will."

"Alright, I guess I'll let you go now. Phil's mom wants to get an early start to the airport and I got suckered into doing the driving."

"Okay. Bye Mom. Tell everyone I said hi and wish them a merry Christmas, okay?"

"Will do. Any you'll do the same for me?"

"Sure."

"I love you, Baby. I'll call soon, alright? Bye."

"Bye."

Bella waits for the dial tone before standing. The movement forces her to realize how cold she is, and she shivers in her haste to go back inside. A warm blast of air rushes to meet her as she steps into the kitchen, brushing snow from her clothes.

"Can you tell the girls to come inside?" Sue asks from where she's seated at the table with Charlie, Billy, and Leroy. Billy is shuffling a deck of cards, and before each person are sloppy stacks of cookies.

Bella pivots, looks out into the dark and calls "Leah! Rachel! Sue said it's time to come back in!"

She hangs up the telephone, winds up the trailing wire and sets the bundled cord on the countertop. Just as she's reaching for a soda, Rachel and Leah stomp inside.

"Frak me," Rachel loudly exclaims, fluffing out her damp hair. "I didn't realize how freezing it was outside till just now." She peels off her mittens, smiles sweetly at Charlie. "Chief, you mind if I use your blow-dryer?"

Charlie gives a dismissive wave, picks up his dealt cards. "It's all yours."

"Thanks!" Rachel chirps, grabbing Leah's hand and dragging the sullen girl out of the kitchen.

"Be quick!" Sue calls after them. "We're starting the gift exchange in half an hour!"

Jacob is still at the sink, a plate in hand. Bella bumps her hip to his, grins. "You know, you don't have to do the dishes."

He shrugs. "I don't mind. How's your mom? She mentioned something about…pirates? Did I hear that right?"

"Yup." Bella sets her soda down, takes the plate from Jacob to dry it off. "Phil's taking her to Vegas."

Jacob gives an appreciative whistle. "Nice. Any particular reason?"

"Barry Manilow."

"Oh. Of course. How did I not think of that?"

* * *

"Are you sure I can't—"

Rachel shakes her head, gently shoves Bella out of the kitchen. "No, no. I'm mad at Paul, so any excuse to put off seeing him, well, I'm jumping on it. Plus, you made all the food. The least I could do is wash some dishes."

"Look, I don't mind helping. Just let me—"

"Shoo, shoo," Rachel says, waving Bella away. "Go keep Jake company."

"Alright. But I don't like this."

"That's fine. As long as you get out of the kitchen."

Bella raises her hands in defeat. "Okay. I'm going."

She makes her way to Jake, who is sitting on the couch, half asleep. She takes him in for a moment. He is slouched down, arms crossed over his chest, legs outstretched. One of his eyes pops open, takes her in.

"Hey," he says. "Ready to swap gifts?"

Bella nods, settles down on the floor. There are a still a few gifts beneath the tree. She pulls a rectangular package wrapped in red paper onto her lap. Her fingers tighten around it, crinkling the paper.

Still on the couch, Jacob raises his arms in a stretch. "Guess what?"

"Hm?"

"Charlie said I could spend the night."

Bella's eyebrows shoot up. "How'd you wrangle that?"

"Your bedroom door has to remain open at all times. Also, clothing is a non-optional choice and must be worn at all times. Chief's orders."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Not like I'd let you try anything with Charlie down the hall."

Jacob chuckles, slips from the couch to sit across from Bella. "Oh? I seem to remember one Fourth of July celebration where you did this thing with your toun—"

Bella lurches forward, cheeks aflame, to clasp a hand over Jacob's mouth. She can feel his lips move against her flesh in a smile.

"Finish that sentence and I will kill you," she hisses, eyes flitting to the kitchen entryway to make sure Rachel didn't hear.

In response, Jacob licks her palm. Bella jumps in surprise, hand drawing back.

She shakes her head in mock disgust. "What are you, five?"

"Twenty-four."

Bella snorts. "Well, start acting like it."

"Just give me my present."

"Here." She shoves it at him.

Jacob lifts it, gives the package an experimental jiggle. "Huh. So not a coin collection."

"Wait!" Bella exclaims, insides squirming uncomfortably as Jacob begins to rip the red gift-wrap off. "No! I don't want you to have it anymore. It's stupid. You won't like it. Just give it back and I'll change it."

Jacob shakes his head. "No. No. I want it. I'll love it."

"You won't." Bella says desperately. "It's a dumb gift. I don't even know why I…I just picked it up, okay. And I'm…Don't open it!"

Jacob pauses mid tear. "Why not? It's my present."

"Look, just, give it back. Please. I don't want you to have it and…it's a book, alright?"

"Great." Jacob grins. "I love reading."

"When was the last time you read anything?"

"Last week. I took Dad to the doctor's and read an article in Vanity Fair."

Bella pauses, clearly not expecting his answer. "Vanity Fair? Really?"

"It was that or an article on golf clubs. Sarah Jessica Parker won in the end. Hey!" He swats at Bella's hand creeping forward to snatch his gift.

"Fine." Bella gives an exasperated sigh. "Open it. But don't complain to me if you don't like it." Jacob continues to peel back the wrapping paper. "It's just…I'm not good with words. Or, you know, emotions in general. I'm basically a female Charlie and I can't say things right or show you how much…it's love letters, okay. Everything I can't manage to say because I don't have the right words…they're in there. And I just wanted you to know that that's how I feel and…it's dumb I know, but—"

Jacob looks down at the half wrapped book, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I love it."

"—I couldn't think of what to get you and, oh! You do? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"No. I like it. Really."

"Oh. Okay. Good. Great. I…" Bella trails off, stares down at her clasped hands with red cheeks. Softly, she says "It's for when I'm at school. So, you can read it and think of…Gosh, I should just stop talking."

Jacob opens the book, thumbs through the pages and settles on one at random, reads: "Not believe that I love you? You cannot pretend to be so incredulous. If you do not believe my tongue, consult my eyes, consult your own. You will find by yours that they have charms; by mine that I have a heart which feels them."

As he continues to read, Bella finally lifts her gaze. She watches Jacob, his lips mouthing words that are far off and soft like the lingering tail of an echo, the length of his neck bent to read the thick book she bought him, the squint of his eyes as he reads in the dim light of the living room. She takes all of him in, and she loves it. She loves every bit of him. Every glorious piece of his personality. Every not so charming piece, too. She loves him with an ease that leaves her amazed, and she can't possibly imagine her life without him.

She wants him for as long as her life allows. Wants to wake up every morning with him by her side. She wants to watch horrible made for television movies with him, wants to fall in showers with him, wants to love him until her body is exhausted with the effort.

Bella imagines years passing and changing them, melding them into different people. She pictures two gorgeous children, black hair flying behind them as they run from the forest and into her waiting arms. Bella pictures a life—full of love and warmth and family and everything she could possibly hope for. And when Bella thinks of the future, she finds that the only constant she wants is the man before her.

"Do you remember that time after we'd just started dating and I was visiting Charlie and there was that big spider in the shower?"

"The mutant spider?" Jacob asks, snapping the book closed and setting it aside.

Bella nods. "Yeah. And I called you freaked out of my mind because I thought that it was going to attack me and you drove all the way over from La Push just to kill it."

"Because you were late for work and Mrs. Newton was already mad at you, right?"

"Right. Because the day before I was late. The truck was being finicky, or something." Bella nervously tugs at the hem of her shirt, takes a deep breath. "And you just…What I'm trying to say is I want you killing all the mutant spiders that show up in my shower for the rest of my life. Because you're it for me. And…and I want you to be my husband."

Jacob, dazed, says, "Wait…are you…?"

"Yes." Bella grins widely, giggles. "Yeah. Actually. I am. Jacob Black, will you marry me?"

"I…Yeah. Yes, of course." Jacob laughs, head thrown back. "You're…I can't believe you're the one who asked."

"I know."

"So, we're…"

"Getting married." Bella bites her lip, smiles.

"This is insane."

They stare at one another, eyes wide and shining with joy. Bella's heart hammers in her chest, and she leans forward to whisper, "I feel like I could scream from happiness. I just…"

"Me too," Jacob confides. His hands snake across the floor to grasp hers. He squeezes gently, pulls her closer. She scoots forward, their knees touching, and Bella opens her mouth then closes it again. She feels giddy, silly and alive—like someone who just won the lottery and Olympic gold simultaneously.

Bella laughs quietly as she leans forward. "You're going to be my husband."

"You're gonna be my wife," Jacob answers.

"We'll live in the same house. And I'll cook and you'll fix things."

"And we'll have kids. Lots and lots of kids. Twenty."

"Fifty. And name them all after rock stars."

"And Charlie and Dad will baby-sit when I take you out on dates. We'll go to fancy restaurants and pretend we're wine snobs."

"We'll cut out coupons and go grocery shopping and buy a _minivan_. And our hair will turn gray and we'll get wrinkles and I won't even care."

"We'll be happy."

"Very, very happy. And little Jim Morrison and Pat Benatar will beg us to tell the story about how we fell in love."

Jacob laughs; his face is lit blue and green from the lights on the tree. Bella kisses each patch of colored skin before placing her lips softly against his in a chaste kiss.

Jacob groans when they part. "Oh man. My gift is going to look so lame after this."


End file.
